Of all the people
by 101weirdways
Summary: Of all people, why Merlin. Quick and easy one-shot as Merlin sighs over his difficult life. See if you notice something strange...


**One-shot quick read for random bus journey's or break-time treats.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

 **Why?**

Why me?

Literally, the gods could have picked a better person. Not an absent minded fool like me!

Living through my whole life, I've felt cruelly discriminated for being different, for having magic.

Although I try to teach others different, I find this a curse rather than a blessing. Those I love and care about are constantly killed, injured and hunted. Call me what you like, an ungrateful hypocrite if you must, but you try having a destiny you can't shake of on your shoulders. It weighs you down. It pulls you back!

I kick a stone into the river I am Pacing along, constantly wondering, why me?

It is a wet day, not rainy but damp and cold. The chill gets inside my lungs, making me shiver all over. Autumn is coming to a close now, The trees are almost all bare and from the castle, all you can see is a spiky sea of brown branches, waving in the wind like sad singers. They howl too. At night, all I can hear is their strange harrowing howl, like a cold and lonely dog, trapped away from its kennel, from it's friends.

I know how it feels.

My so called 'great destiny' acts as a great, big, thick iron door, cutting me off from the normal, relaxing life. I haven't had a normal day in years, one where Camelot isn't being threatened by the sickening Cenred, one where we haven't been attacked by bandits on a hike or one where an innocent life isn't at stake.

You see?

I slump down on the bank, dipping my hand into the cold, frosty water. Snow may fall soon, and animals will cower into hibernation. I wish I was one of them. Getting a whole proper nights rest is a luxury I cannot receive.

For Arthur, I couldn't kill a fly and that is what makes things so difficult. The extreme loyalty that comes with my job is always hard to uphold, even if at some points I appear so confident in my faith to the Prince. It's easy to slip into the trap of loyalty, and now I am submerged in the dark abyss of its bottomless pit. Don't get me started on Uther!

I lean back, resting my head on the white sheet of cold underneath me. Snow is calming. It's beautiful purity is easy to become attached to, an example that everything and everyone has their time.

Like me. I wonder sometimes if it will ever end. Duties to the king and Prince for sure will, without a doubt, but will I always be a prisoner of the old religion.

Why me!

I sigh heavily as I turn my head to see a host of purple flowers, pushing their way through the soil, dominating their territory with a striking bold colour.

They are so pretty I long to see me so I turn my head in the opposite direction to notice another bouquet of colour like a painters pallet.

I couldn't be a part of that, NO of course not! Instead I was placed with responsibility of handing bloodthirsty men fighting bloodthirsty. Blood red destruction that's all I'm a part of.

In the eyes of Uther, I'm cold blooded filth, responsible for the lives of soldiers and wars as big as oceans and in the eyes of sorcery, a traitor to my kind and a fool to take Camelot as an ally.

In my eyes, I don't fit into any category and stick out like a sore thumb.

I look at the flowers again, imagine blowing their yellow trumpets and ringing their indigo bells. They rustle about and out of their protective tent, emerges a tiny rabbit with huge chocolate eyes and new brown fur. New and innocent, to think I was once in that way. Before I started moving objects with my eye and smashing things with my mind.

Heavily sighing again, I face the sky. There are no clouds and the sun is shining out like a smiling fairy. It's intense heat warms my face up like a fire and a tepid breeze blows over my face. I just lie there.

Why me. Absent minded, clumsy, lazy and I care to much for the things that need no care.

Why me. My breath is soft and silent and I look down at my stomach, slowly rising and falling, matching the waves of the stream. The wind eventually blows a large, crispy, scarlet leaf onto my face, fallen from one of the trees.

Why me I sigh.

Why me.


End file.
